New Heaven, New Earth: Anarchism and Christianity Beyond Empire
August 14 & 15, 2009

Location
Caritas Village
2509 Harvard Avenue,
Memphis, TN 38112

This year’s anarchism and Christianity conference, hosted by Jesus Radicals, will look squarely at the economic and ecological crisis facing the globe, and point to signs of hope for creativity, for alternative living, for radical sharing, for faithfulness, for a new way of being. We are living in a karios moment that will either break us or compel us to finally strive for a new, sane way of life. The question we face at this pivotal time is not if our empires will fall apart, but when they will fall–and how will we face it? We hope you will join the conversation.

CONFIRMED SPEAKERS
Plenary presenters
– Layla Abdel Rahim, anti-authoritarian wanderer, researcher and university lecturer, writer, and unschooling mother
– Emmanuel Charles McCarthy, co-founder Pax Christi-USA, nonviolence advocate and peace activist
– Ewuare Osayande, author, poet and political activist; founder of POWER (People Organized Working to Eradicate Racism)
– John Zerzan, anti-civilization theorist, writer and speaker; host of Anarchy Radio

Panelists
– Jeannie Alexander, Amos House Catholic Worker
– Eric Anglada, New Hope Catholic Worker Farm
– Brenna Cussen, Saints Francis & Therese Catholic Worker
– Gene Davenport, Lambuth University

– Eileen Fleming, We Are Wide Awake
– Ethan Hughes, The Possibility Alliance
– Lee Van Ham, Jubilee Economics Ministries

SESSIONS
– Anarchism and Christianity Primer
– Seeing What Greenspan Couldn’t: A New, Partnership Economy
– Jesus & the Money Changers: Rioting Against the Economic Crisis

– Nonviolence in the Holy Land: A spiritual journey and nonviolent political odyssey from the Middle East to the USA
– Anarcho-Primitivism versus a Darkening Reality
– Revealing the Kingdom in the Midst of Empire: Reimagining Citizenship, Reimagining Economics
– A Lullaby for the Planet: Undressing Ourselves for a Viable Parenthood
– Exploring New Possibilities (tentative title)
– Gospel Nonviolent Anarchism—Logos & Emmunah

RECREATION
– Community Tour – GrowMemphis
– Film screening – “What A Way To Go: Life At The End Of Empire”

More information: http://www.jesusradicals.com/conference/

I’ve got some new friends who had never heard of anabaptism. So I wrote a summary of what I understand Anabaptism to be. Look it over. What would you add or subtract? What would you nuance differently?

And if you aren’t anabaptist, what questions would you have?

The Anabaptist tradition
In 1525 the reformation of the church in the West was just beginning. There was a lot of excitement about Luther’s reforms, not least of all in Zurich, Switzerland. Zwingli was leading the city leaders into a reform there based on Scripture alone, but many of the reformation’s supporters there didn’t think that Zwingli was going far enough. They noticed that when he spoke about certain issues, that he was more interested in his theological point, rather than actually brining the church back into obedience to Jesus. So they baptized themselves in the name of Jesus, making each other citizens of Jesus’ kingdom instead of any kingdom on earth. This movement grew, and they were called ana-baptists by their enemies, because it was claimed that they would re-baptize their members. But in reality, the Anabaptists affirmed that they were spreading the one true baptism—an entrance into God’s kingdom through true understanding and not just assent to the society of the church. This movement has continued to this day.

What Anabaptists Believe:
1. Jesus only
“No one knows the Father except the Son”
Anabaptists hold to no theology except that stated by Jesus himself. Even as Jesus supersedes the Old Testament law, Jesus also rules over all theology that the church itself created, whether that by Paul or by Calvin or by N.T. Wright. And the focus of our belief is not a Jesus we create—such as a glorified, theological Jesus or a model of a historical Jesus or a cultural Jesus—but the Jesus of the gospels. Thus, the four gospels lead us to interpret all things through the words and life of Jesus.
Since Anabaptists affirm the superiority of Jesus, we also recognize the weakness of all things human to achieve truth or justice. Thus, any particular denomination or creed is only in a process of getting closer to or further from Jesus, but no church could ever be complete in and of itself. Various governments may attempt to achieve justice, but they all fail. Schools attempt to teach truth, but no matter how precise they are, they fail to achieve the full truth that Jesus gives us.

2. Peace
“Have salt in yourselves and be at peace.”
Anabaptists are a peaceful people. We wish to make changes in the world, but not through violence or hate speech. Rather, we believe that we need to display the actions we want in others. If we want peace in the world, we cannot create peace through violence. Yes, dramatic change must happen for the world to have peace, but God can create the dramatic change—it is our responsibility to be the ideal community the world must become.

3. Community
“Love one another”
Following Jesus cannot be done separated from others. Jesus, again and again, commands us to “love” and love cannot be done in isolation. We must support each other in communities and our communities must reach out to others outside of our community to display our love. We must also support and provide hospitality so that no one within our community has need.

4. Believer’s Baptism
“Those who believe and are baptized are saved.”
Today, it may not seem as important as an issue, but the Anabaptist communities originally began as groups who baptized only those who could understand and be faithful to Jesus. Thus, Anabaptists don’t baptize infants or assume that everyone within a particular social group is a follower of Jesus. That is a personal commitment that each person must determine individually, and lives out in their own lives.

5. Love of Enemies
“Do good to those who despitefully use you.”
Because we will not cause others to be afraid of us, that makes us vulnerable to others. Jesus showed us that even if people do disrespectful, hateful or even violent acts, that does not mean that we should return such acts in kind. Rather, we are to display God’s love even—nay, especially—to those who do terrible things to us. In order to have security, we do not depend on our strength, but on God’s.

6. Communion with the outcast
“The Son of Man came to seek and save the lost.”
Anabaptists know what it means to be outcast, because they have been rejected. But we are also to reach out to those who have been rejected by society. Rather than create another outcast group, the Anabaptists connect with those who are hated, and welcome them as Jesus would.

7. Assistance to the poor
“Sell your possessions and give to the poor.”
Jesus helped the poor with what resources he had, so also do Anabaptists. We see the needs of the poor, and rather than simply ignoring their basic needs, we meet them with love in relationship. We understand that it isn’t enough just to give to the poor, but to connect with them as well, because without relationship we cannot love.

What is the difference between Anabaptist and Mennonite?
Both Anabaptists and Mennonites have the same historical foundation, and much of their understanding of Jesus and life is similar. Historically, the Mennonites have a more complex life than Anabaptists, relating to particular ethnic groups, particular nationalities, forming denominations and mission groups and going through serious cultural changes over the last fifty years. Mennonites have often tried to follow Anabaptist ideals, but as a conglomerate of human institutions, they have often gotten caught up in the concerns of the cultures around them.
Anabaptists, however, are found not just in certain denominations or ethnic groups, nor are they limited to a certain historic line. Anabaptists are people who choose Jesus over any human institution, and choose to follow Jesus’ ethical pattern as a personal choice. They may gather in any denomination or create their own, separate communities. They aren’t bound to a particular theology or ideology, but are separate from them all. There are many Anabaptists within Mennonite groups, but they usually are a minority of them. There are also many Anabaptists outside of Mennonite groups, but count all people who follow Jesus, no matter what group they are a part of, as a part of their global family.

If you want to know more about Anabaptism, then please check out the following blogs or podcasts that give different perspectives on what it means to be Anabaptist:

Anabaptist Distinctives by Steve Kimes

Jesus Creed by Scot McKnight

Across The Pond by Tony Campolo

Woodland Hills Podcast by Greg Boyd

Blog on Christarchy! By Mark Van Steenwyk

Featured Photo by Tim Nafziger of ceramic pieces by Dennis Maust. See full size on Flickr

Anawim theology is the biblical theology of God’s salvation of the poor and outcast. It is strongly linked to anabaptist theology. “Anawim” is a Hebrew term that means “the poor seeking the Lord for deliverance”, is used in the Psalms extensively and is referred to in the Magnificat and the Beatitudes. If you are interested in reading a popular theology of it you can read the book Unexpected News: Reading The Bible Through Third World Eyes or check out this website: http://www.nowheretolayhishead.org/teachings.html

But I’m not here to talk about that. I’m here to talk about Avatar.

I understand that some feel that there is some racism in Avatar, and I can see their point, but it would be deeply embedded and certainly not obvious to the masses throughout the world watching it. However, I believe that part of the reason that Avatar is so popular is because of the open Anawim-like theology involved. There is a general morality throughout the world that the underdog should be supported and that God is on the side of the oppressed. Avatar not only supports this, but has a pretty strong morality/spirituality. As I sat and watched it a couple times, I wrote the following principles down that I think describes Avatar’s basic support of Anawim theology:

There is a empire, ruling the world, and its focus is to increase the wealth of a limited few, even if that hurts others. Everyone within the empire is a part of this system of greed, even if they superficially attempt to oppose it.

There is an alternative system which focuses on relationships, community and spiritual power.

The secret of the spiritual community is empathy. It is the sign that one is a part of the spiritual community, the unifying principle as well as the power. One has empathy with all life. Even if one must kill to survive, empathy requires that one feels the death of the other, and give it the respect that one would demand. The minimal amount of empathy is treating other’s life as one would be treated.

All empathy begins with understanding, with listening. Eventually, one can “see” another, deeply understanding the other, placing them as an equal in importance to oneself. Those who do not have the ability to understand, to empathize, are insane and cannot exist in the spiritual community.

But some relationships have deeper empathy, a full bond. In those relationships, two share their minds, their lives, their souls. And once bonded, the bond cannot be broken except through death. This is love.

The opposite to empathy, to bonding, is fear. To fear the other is to separate from the other. To listen to the other, one must receive the other; to accept the other, one must trust; to bond with the other one must unite.

Those of the empire cannot empathize. Yes, they can understand intellectually the other different from oneself, but they cannot truly see them as equals to themselves. They are so caught up in building their own empire for those like themselves, that they cannot see the other. So they outcast those who truly empathize, because the desires of empathy is opposite to the greed of the empire.

The evil empire wants the resources of the spiritual community and will ignore all the concerns of the spiritual community to get it. On the surface, the evil empire is more powerful than the spiritual community, and the spiritual community is in threat of extinction.

For the spiritual community to survive, there must be a mediator—one who knows what it is to be spiritual and one who has lived amidst the empire. He or she must be born of both worlds, but the Mediator does not straddle the fence. The Mediator must be on the side of the spiritual community, the weak, the oppressed, if they are to survive.

In the end, there will be conflict—disasterous conflict—between the empire and the spiritual community. And although the empire seems to have the greater power, the fact is that the spiritual community has a source that is at the core of all life. The only way to connect to that Source is through prayer. Thus, though the Mediator may use many different resources, the true power is found in prayer. Prayer is what changes the course for the spiritual community.

One must recognize, however, that the Source does not take sides between the empire and the spiritual community. The Source is on the side of all life, of order and balance. However, as long as the spiritual community is on the side of the Source, then the Source will act for them. And this action is more powerful than anything else they might conceive themselves.

Eventually, the spiritual community of empathy will rule the world and force the empire out. But this will only happen when the truly are united in Empathy. Only then will many in the Empire become united with the Source of all life, and seek balance.

What do you think?

This last year our church determined that we would open to shelter the local homeless each time the weather went below freezing, but the city wouldn’t permit other churches to open up. We live in a fairly temperate climate, but the winter was cold, and most homeless weren’t prepared for it. After opening more than 15 nights, the city shut us down. Here is my reaction to my conversation with the city. If you are interested in our church and what our focus is, please check us out at www.NowhereToLayHisHead.org

I had a mysterious conversation with the emergency services manager of Gresham and the fire marshal a couple weeks ago. I was talking to them about the need of people sleeping on the street and how much danger they are in, especially when it gets below freezing. I spoke of Fred, whose leg was cut off a couple months ago because he had slept outside in freezing conditions. I spoke of the sixteen year old girls who have been sleeping outside all winter. And about a father and his sixteen year old pregant daughter who found themselves desperate without shelter.

And the response I recieved from them is a lot of fire codes, and how we can’t open because we don’t have 200 square feet per person and how it is acceptable to have a standard of only opening churches when it gets below 22 degrees. And they told me, “This is not a social problem,” and they said, “This is not an emergency,” and they said, “You should just let other people deal with this.” This was a foreign language to me, so I spoke of fire code with them, because it seemed to be the only language we could both understand.

Only this morning did it dawn on me what they were saying. They were saying that the fact that some people sleep out side and freeze to death is something they can live with. When they say, “This is not an emergency” it means that they don’t consider it important that Fred lost his leg. It is unfortunate, I am sure they would agree, but it doesn’t keep them up at night. They wouldn’t want the sixteen year old girls, pregnant or otherwise, to sleep outside in the freezing cold, but it doesn’t actually concern them, either. Because they have accepted that their city, their country, is a place where such things happen.

About seven years ago, I was going out to a homeless camp site to see Bill, just in case there was something I could do to help him. He had night blindness and was beginning to be mentally unstable, so I was going to take him to health professionals and see what could be done. When I found Bill, he was in a ditch, with no pulse. The paramedics told me he had died of hypothermia in the night.

To have leaders in our city help all of us, to treat us all as citizens, we need leaders who have compassion. I understand, it is difficult to have empathy. It is stressful and painful. Empathy can make you lose sleep when you realize that it is freezing outside and there are people suffering out in it. Compassion can make you wake up anxiously because you don’t know if you’ve done enough to help those in need. But a deep care of others is the only thing that will stir us to make things better for everyone. And it may cost us, but it will make our city better, it will make our county livable, and it will make our nation human.

Please, as it freezes these next few nights, think of those who are sleeping in it, and consider what can be done for them. Not just tonight, but for years to come.

Recently, J. Denny Weaver spoke of his conversion from “passive” non-resistance and two-kingdom theology to an active stance against evil (reflection: can Mennonites use the term “evil”?) in Wisconsin. http://www.themennonite.org/issues/14-4/articles/Protesting_and_the_reign_of_God
While I approve of his stand, I must disagree with the theological conclusions of his article.

In speaking of two kingdom theology, Professor Weaver emphasizes the passive inaction of the theology. That it has nothing to say to oppression, that God is the God who empowers violence and the non-resistant have nothing to respond to injustice. Perhaps this is the form of two-kingdom theology that Professor Weaver learned, and I can see with a title like “non-resistance”, a theology might be prone to inaction. Certainly passivity is a concern among many who are raised “non-resistant”.

But two-kingdom theology is not about passivity. Certainly there is a passive aspect to it, even as Jesus said, “My kingdom is not of this world. If my kingdom were of this world, my servants would be fighting.” So there are actions that those of Jesus’ kingdom do not take. However, the foundational law of the kingdom of Jesus is active: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” Love isn’t passive, but active. Like the Samaritan in Jesus story, the one of Jesus’ kingdom cannot look at one hurt in the gutter and not act.

When I learned two-kingdom theology, I did not learn it as J. Denny Weaver did. Dr. William Higgins, former teacher of the Pacific Northwest Mennonite Conference and currently pastor of Cedar Street Mennonite Church summarizes two kingdom theology thusly: “The church is a separate social entity from the rest of society which is ‘the world.’ These two kingdoms have different standards. You are either among the people of God or you are a part of the world. There is no neutral ground. This is a rejection of the Christendom conception of a church that is fused together with the state into one social entity, living by one standard.” http://26anabaptistdistinctives.blogspot.com/2008/09/distinctive-14-two-kingdoms.html

This idea of two kingdom theology is not about passive inactivity at all. Rather, it is saying that since the world is about violence, greed, polytheism and lust that its principles cannot operate in conjunction with the principles of people who live according to Jesus’ rule. It states that any attempts to fuse the ideals of Jesus and the ideals of the world end at best with compromise and at worst a hypocritical church. Two kingdom theology implies that the will of God cannot be accomplished by the methods of the world. That human systems of government, bureaucracy, power structures and oppression are inadequate to the task of producing the justice and mercy of God. This must be done by God’s people. Finally, two-kingdom theology implies that any church that works in tandem with the systems of this world are a part of the world, not the kingdom of Jesus. The two kingdoms are exclusive and we must choose one or the other.

The main criticism that two-kingdom theology would bring against Professor Weaver’s promotion of non-violent resistance is that the Professor’s theology assumes that justice can be accomplished by systems as they currently stand. Even more, he assumes that it is the only way that justice can be accomplished. Two kingdom theology is much more revolutionary than that. Two kingdom theology insists that justice and mercy must be accomplished in spite of the governments and bureaucracies of this world, which, in the end, only perpetuate one oppression or another. To think that simply “resisting” a system will change it to create justice is naïve, and misunderstanding the deep corruption of the powers.

Perhaps instead of speaking of “non-resistance” which implies passivity– which clearly neither Jesus nor the early Anabaptists held to– perhaps we should speak of two kingdom theology as “positive action.” This implies two things: First, that we refuse to take action that is negative: action that harms another or acts in a disrespectful way to authority. When Jesus said, “Do not resist an evil one”, he was speaking of responding in an evil way to evil. To be a person who refuses to “give to Caesar what is Caesar’s” or who actively participates in violence is a part of the world’s solution, not Jesus’. Thus, the citizen of Jesus’ kingdom refuses to participate in those actions.

Second, the citizens of Jesus’ kingdom act positively toward justice, using the methods of peace and mercy, without the aid of the systems of this world. The primary method is by creating communities which act in justice despite what the powers say or do. Because the citizens of Jesus’ kingdom have as their primary law, “Love”, they will love even when the governments, churches or bureaucracies of this world command them not to. They do not bow to the forces of oppression, nor do they expect them to necessarily change. Thus, the citizens of Jesus must create the change they must see.

How does this actually work? Well, in all humility, I propose the example of my own church, Anawim Christian Community. We are a community church for an oppressed minority, the homeless and mentally ill of Portland, Oregon. Because of the help of the Pacific Northwest Mennonite Conference and local churches, we have been able to organize day shelters for the homeless and night shelters when the weather is dangerous and when there isn’t shelter permitted by the city. We do this to provide sanctuary for the oppressed from the police and stakeholders of the local government who oppress the homeless. We do this to provide mercy for those considered unworthy of assistance by the majority of our community. We do this to make the dehumanized human again, and to help those who wish to become active citizens of Jesus’ kingdom because they have been rejected as citizens of the community they were raised in.

This is two kingdom theology in action. Yes, it is a quiet revolution. But we consider it more effective and immediate than picketing city hall. We do not participate in violence, in protests or even in anger. But we act. And because of our acts, people eat, receive shelter, receive protection and live to see another day.

God created us without us;
but God did not will to save us without us.

~ Augustine of Hippo

I have always found good company with the apostle Paul in his letter to the Romans when he writes about the groaning inside all of us: “for we do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit intercedes with groans too deep for words” (Rom 8:26).

Does it seem a little unholy to start a conversation about the triune nature of God by paying attention to the groaning in our gut? The Trinity doesn’t belong there, right? Shouldn’t we start up in heaven? Isn’t it a bit self-centered to turn a sermon on the Trinity into a sermon about us? Isn’t God supposed to be way over there, or way up there? As the prophet Isaiah says, “I saw the Lord sitting on a throne, high and lofty” (Isa 6:1a).

Now, to be fair to Isaiah’s vision, God isn’t completely distant: “The hem of God’s robe filled the temple” (v. 1b). There is a point of connection between heaven and earth, and that is the Temple. But in Romans, Paul seems to think that God’s presence is even more intimate than that: God is in us, in our groaning, in our sighs, in our prayers, God’s Spirit is a companion with our spirit. Here’s what Paul says: “When we cry, ‘Abba! Father!’ it is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God” (Rom 8:15b-16). Through the Spirit, God becomes intimate with us, interior to us, completely familiar, a companion. The Holy Spirit is present in our spirit, groaning with us, crying out with us. And with the groaning we begin to get a sense for the Trinity; we become the site of the work of all three persons—Father, Son, and Spirit. Our bodies become God’s home. God rests with us, and in us, not as some outside power, not as some cosmic clockmaker, not as some bearded old king on a throne in heaven. God isn’t an outsider to our lives. God isn’t like a king or a president who might choose to save us by sending his troops. God doesn’t send others to do the dirty work. God sends God. That’s why we confess that Jesus is God. If Jesus is not God, then we worship a God who refuses to jump into our mess, then we serve a God who doesn’t like to get dirty. If Jesus is not God, then we praise a God who doesn’t want to get too close—a God who refuses intimacy, who refuses the risks that come along with becoming our friend, our companion.

This is why the language of God’s sovereignty sometimes leads us astray. When we say that God is sovereign, we probably picture God as one of those kings who makes decrees from on high with an entourage of servants at his command. We picture God as a president who claims victory while never living in the trenches—a distant God, always once-removed from the action. And if that’s what we mean when we call God sovereign, then we don’t really believe in the God who is Trinity, which is simply another way of saying that we don’t have a clue about what happens on the cross. Because on the cross that kind of sovereign God dies. Or, to put it more provocatively, the crucifixion kills our picture of a detached God. The crucifixion of Jesus kills our image of God as the sovereign victor who sends other people to do the dirty work, the risky stuff. The true God, the God revealed at the crucifixion, is intimate with humanity, familiar with our flesh. At the cross we see how God sends God to accomplish our salvation.

Now, the Holy Spirit is how God takes even one more step closer to us. The Spirit draws God even closer, maybe even uncomfortably close. Remember the beginning of the Gospel when the Holy Spirit descends upon Mary’s womb and gives her a son, Jesus. Now that’s close, very close—entering a womb is uncomfortably close. And we have Paul in Romans 8 using, interestingly enough, pregnancy language to talk about how the Spirit is at work inside all of us—not just Mary. Each of us is groaning in labor pains, Paul says, undergoing the travail of the Holy Spirit, awaiting God’s redemption in our midst, feeling the good news being born inside of us. At this point the Spirit reveals an important insight into the nature of God. That is, God doesn’t overpower us. God isn’t a super-sovereign, doing what he wants whenever he wants. God doesn’t rescue us as if he were a SWAT team or a Navy Seal operation. God doesn’t act like a foreign invader of our lives, forcing us to join the mission. None of those images describe God. Augustine of Hippo made this point when he said, “God did not will to save us without us.” God doesn’t save us without us. God doesn’t use external force to get us to do the right thing.

Let me offer a few images to help us get a sense for what God is not. God is not like a surgeon who stands next to her patient and operates on the heart. God is not like a mechanic who looks under the hood and repairs the engine. God’s life is much too intimate with ours for those images to be true. God saves us from the inside; God heals us as if healing her own body. It’s hard to talk about this stuff. Our language seems to break down. The doctrine of the Trinity seems to push us into the limits of language and shows us that the best way to understand is to feel it, to be drawn into this relationship, to feel the Spirit working in your life, to listen for the groaning in your gut.

Let me offer one more picture of the way God works in our lives through the Holy Spirit. This one involves the 1995 BBC production of Pride and Prejudice. The story centers on the relationship between Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet. Darcy is a gentlemen and one of the richest men around. Elizabeth comes from a humble family. Mr. Darcy falls in love with Elizabeth even though he shouldn’t because of their class difference. It would be a scandal for a man like Darcy to marry someone from the inferior Bennet family line. Yet he can’t help himself, and everything comes out one afternoon when he storms into Elizabeth’s room and professes his love. But it’s all wrong; he gets everything wrong. Darcy doesn’t understand love. His kind of love is one that compels from the outside. Darcy knows his position of social power over someone as humble as Elizabeth. If he wants Elizabeth, he can take her and insult her in the process. Here’s what he says in his profession of love: “My feelings for you have taken possession of me against my will, my reason, and almost against my character!” Darcy knows that a person of such high standing shouldn’t love someone of such low status. So he admits that his love is unnatural, and insults Elizabeth’s family. Not a very wise move. Darcy doesn’t know that you can’t come from on high and force someone to love you, that you can’t make love happen on your own terms; he doesn’t know that love is not coercive. When Darcy finally gets around to the proposal part, he goes on and on about how his kind shouldn’t associate with her kind. He says, “I now hope that the strength of my love may have its reward in your acceptance of my hand.” The strength of my love. Darcy thinks the strength of his love, the sheer power of his passion, should get him what he wants—a “reward,” he says. Elizabeth’s acceptance is a reward, something he earns through his confession. There is no need for him to think through whether or not he has made himself lovable. Darcy doesn’t think twice about whether or not he deserves her love.

Mr. Darcy’s love comes from one high, from the position of a gentlemanly sovereign, a benevolent aristocrat. That’s not how God loves. Now, I should say a little more about how Darcy’s character develops—Katie, my wife, would not be happy with me if I left you with a bad impression of Mr. Darcy! Elizabeth rejects Darcy’s declaration of love from on high, and so Darcy begins to learn that love must first become familiar, intimate. Love comes from companionship—so he spends the rest of the movie learning how to be a companion, and how to love Elizabeth’s strange family. And it’s this companionship that gets at what Paul is saying about the Holy Spirit. God is in our depths, groaning with us. God’s love comes through intimate companionship—walking with us, praying with us, crying out with us. God doesn’t overpower us. God’s Spirit is a hidden presence—willing to go unnoticed, willing to be a humble companion. That is how the Trinity begins to unfold in our lives. It starts as a groan, something beyond words, a sigh. Perhaps a sigh from exhaustion with your life, or a disgruntled groan about the way the world works. You don’t know what to say or how to change things or where to go. You’re just plain stuck, without options. Yet the Spirit is there: your groaning companion, Paul says. The Holy Spirits turns that feeling in your gut into a simple prayer—or, as Paul says, “a cry,” a cry to the one who bore you, the creator, the mother of us all, “Abba! Father!”

The Trinity doesn’t make much sense as a doctrine. But that’s how it goes with the mystery of God. God is not a mystery for us to sit around and think about. The Trinity names an experience, an encounter, a relationship. The Trinity comes as a feeling in our gut, a prayer we don’t know how to pray, a desire we can’t quite get a handle on. This experience is how we know the Trinity is on the move. The best we can do sometimes, the best we can say when we don’t know what to say, the best we can do when everything seems completely unsatisfying, is to go with our gut and groan. For our hope is that our deep sighs echo with the Holy Spirit who leads us into the intimate love of God, a God who is already our companion, a hidden presence among all God’s children. As the apostle Paul puts it, the Trinity comes with a cry:

When we cry, ‘Abba! Father!’ it is that very Spirit [the Holy Spirit] bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs, heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ. (Rom 8:15b-17a)

~

This is an excerpt from J. Alexander Sider and Isaac S. Villegas, Presence: Giving and Receiving God (Cascade, forthcoming).

There’s a building boom on the Bowery these days. It’s been happening for a while, but the last couple years have witnessed an escalation in development, turning the neighborhood into a hip destination point.

Fifty years ago the Bowery was the largest skid row in the world. There were gin joints and flophouses on every block. That’s all gone now, thanks to the forces of gentrification. In their place are condos, art galleries and upscale eateries. Only one skid-row relic remains: the Bowery Mission.

Some of my earliest memories are of sitting behind the Mission’s pulpit in the 1960s, looking onto a sea of expectant faces while my father preached. In retrospect I realize the men behind those faces were awaiting the sermon’s conclusion so they could get their grub.

I also remember Dad leading Mennonites on walks where we’d see groups of men lying on the sidewalk. Such scenes became increasingly rare in the 1980s, though, for by then the bars were disappearing.

Yet the Mission has endured, even thrived. In 2009 it received $15 million in contributions (up from $7 million four years earlier).

Mennonite involvement with the Bowery Mission has a long history. Mennonites never had any ownership stake in the Mission, but have supported it heavily with money and in-kind contributions. For decades groups from Lancaster have come here to give weekend programs.

Recently I became curious to see how things have changed. So on a chilly Saturday in February 2011, I strolled down the Bowery to Prince Street, entered the Mission’s auditorium, and took a seat up front for the 6:30 program.

The Mennonites that night were introduced as the “New Haven youth group.” They sang for a spell and then their minister took the pulpit. He preached from Romans, something about being accountable to God. Unfortunately, his message was riddled with clichés and I had difficulty staying focused. The brother sitting next to me was snoring. The brother in front of me was holding an audible conversation, with himself.

I’m not wrapped too tight either, frankly, and was soon engaged in my own internal dialogue. “Why can’t you say something new,” I queried silently, “something I haven’t heard a billion times before?” Nothing new came. Obviously the minister wasn’t tuned to my frequency.

After the service, seating for dinner commenced. The Mission’s dining space is limited and I could tell it would be a while before I got my grub. So I sat back, relaxed, and stared at the ceiling. I stared at the verses on the walls. I stared at the pipes of the century-old organ. I checked out the crowd behind me. There were about 50 men (and several women), waiting and staring. None inebriated. Just folks down on their luck.

I wondered why the New Haven group didn’t take advantage of this waiting period to mingle with us. Nothing heavy, just friendly chit-chat. But too late … they were already on their bus heading home to Lancaster.

A week later the service was given by a group from Nickel Mines, Pennsylvania. They opened with hymns and testimonies, followed by a message from their deacon, a man named Weaver. Deacon Weaver wasted no time getting to the nitty-gritty. According to him, the Bible says everyone is headed one of two places.

I wished he’d cited chapter and verse for that claim, since I’ve never found it stated in so many words. Sure, I know boilerplate revivalist rhetoric when I hear it. But this is the 21st century. Are Mennonites still recruiting with threats of hellfire? Were references to eternal torture ever an appropriate way for pacifists to win souls?

In any case, Weaver’s words did not fall on fertile ground. No one responded to his altar call. Later, though, the call to dinner got a unanimous response. I wondered: Do the Mennonites realize that everyone in the audience is there for one reason?

The Mission’s website says they dispense hundreds of meals daily. A worthy endeavor, to be sure. Yet the meals aren’t exactly free. The homeless do pay, with their time and their presence at services. The Mission, in turn, uses the presence of the homeless to justify its existence.

It’s a symbiotic relationship. And a reasonable trade, I suppose. After sitting through hour-long services I’d feel I earned some food too, or something. Maybe a dividend check for a piece of that $15 million pie.

Why, I asked myself, is it assumed that people from the streets need the gospel treatment? Is being homeless the same as being lost?

Having few possessions used to be a hallmark of following Jesus. Apparently we’re too sophisticated nowadays to take Jesus seriously when he urges us to not become attached to material things. (Matthew 6:19-30) But are we so far removed from his perspective that we no longer acknowledge the spirituality of life on the margins?

The service the next Saturday was given by some Old Order Mennonites from Weaverland Conference. As they filed up front, each one carrying a hymnal, I had the feeling we were in for a treat. Sure enough, what followed was a stirring hour of four-part a capella singing. No sermon, no altar call. It was exhilarating as well as bewildering.

I spoke with a member of the group and he schooled me on the origins of Weaverland Conference. One of the reasons they left Lancaster Conference was because of their opposition to innovations like mission boards and revival meetings. Aggressive proselytizing, in their view, is worldly. It invokes an unacceptable sort of emotionalism. Hellfire preaching just isn’t the Weaverland way.

The following week’s group was also from Weaverland Conference: two busloads of young people singing under the direction of Eddie Martin. Like their colleagues the previous Saturday, they rocked the house.

This time, though, the program was interrupted midway for words by minister Richard Burkholder. He spoke about traffic directions, green lights and red lights, water turning into vapor and life as vapor, then concluded with something from Revelation. He walked up to the edge of an altar call without giving one.

I remember taking umbrage, again, at the implication something was amiss with the eternal status of us audience members.

Why do church folk think the unchurched are further from heaven than they? Didn’t Jesus say sex workers and tax collectors are ahead of preachers and deacons in the line to enter the kingdom? (Matthew 21:31) That would leave Bowery folk in a good position. Would it not?

Without a doubt, many people on the Bowery suffer from mental illness and need professional help. For those enslaved by drink, there’s only one way to salvation: Alcoholics Anonymous.

To the extent the Mission provides access to quality medical care, social services, A.A. meetings, etc., they are doing God’s work. But evangelistic services and altar calls, in my view, are antiquated window dressing, put on primarily for the sake of funders.

After this I wanted to visit another soup kitchen to see how it’s done elsewhere. Four blocks north of the Bowery Mission stands St. Joseph House, run by the Catholic Worker.

I’ve appreciated the Catholic Worker ever since reading Dorothy Day’s book Loaves and Fishes and realizing her affinities with historic Mennonitism: simple lifestyle, pacifism, communalism, concern for social justice.

Catholic Worker facilities are known as “hospitality houses.” The word “mission” is not used. Dorothy thought it condescending. They operate under the assumption that people from the streets have something to teach those of us who live above the poverty line. This is why, in CW parlance, the homeless are “God’s ambassadors.”

I stumbled into St. Joe’s one Friday for early lunch. I was seated with six others and handed a bowl of vegetable soup, accompanied by dark bread and strong coffee. On one wall was a picture of Martin Luther King, Jr. On another wall was a picture of Dorothy, with the quote: “What we would like to do is change the world.” Jazz was playing in the background. On dish-washing duty was a Quaker I recognized from the 15th Street meetinghouse.

During the course of my meal I was asked several times whether I needed anything. At those particular moments I did not, yet I appreciated the manner in which I was asked. I could get used to this, I thought to myself.

It was in the Catholic Worker dining room that I experienced my own hour of decision. I decided, when time comes I’m on the street in need of three squares and a cot, I’ll know where to go. And where not to go.

*****

Charlie Kraybill lives and works in the Bronx. He is a member of the Marginal Mennonite Society (search for our Facebook page) and the Pink Menno Campaign. Email: carlosnycity@gmail.com

We are Marginal Mennonites, and we are not ashamed.

We are marginal because no self-respecting Mennonite organization would have us. (Not that we care about no stinkin’ respect anyway.)

We reject all creeds, doctrines, dogmas and rituals, because they’re man-made and were created for the purpose of excluding people. Their primary function is to determine who’s in (those who accept the creeds) and who’s out (those who don’t). The earliest anabaptists were also non-creedal.

We are inclusive. There are no dues or fees for membership. The only requirement is the desire to identify oneself as a Marginal Mennonite. We have no protocol for exclusion.

We are universalists. We believe every person who’s ever lived gets a seat at the celestial banquet table. No questions asked! Mystic-humanist (and anabaptist) Hans Denck was quoted saying that “even demons in the end will be saved.”

We reject missionary activity. Christian mission, historically, goes hand-in-hand with cultural extermination. We love human diversity and seek to preserve it. Thus, we oppose evangelistic campaigns and mission boards, no matter how innocuous or charitable they claim to be.

We like Jesus. A lot. The real Jesus, not the supernatural one. We like the one who was 100% human, who moved around in space and time. The one who enjoyed the company of women and was obsessed with the kingdom of God. The one who said “Become passersby!” (Gospel of Thomas 42), which we interpret as an anti-automobile sentiment.

We endorse the Sermon on the Mount. Or at least the sayings within that can be identified by modern biblical scholarship as authentic. The sayings emphasizing love, mercy, compassion, nonviolence, and non-attachment to material things. We recall that the earliest anabaptists were known as “Sermon-on-the-Mount people.”

We recognize that focusing on “authentic sayings” might say as much about us as it does about the historical Jesus. There are many Jesuses around these days. We choose to hang with the merciful and inclusive Jesus of the Sermon, as opposed to the judgmental and exclusive Jesus of the church.

We are unapologetic humanists. We believe in art, evolution, relativity, paradox, synchronicity, quantum mechanics, string cheese theory, and putty tats. We value irreverence, outrageousness, and a strong cup of tea. We aim to help raise the collective consciousness, as well as the awareness we are all One.

We strive to animate the spirits of Jalaluddin Rumi (d.1273), Hans Denck (d.1527), George Fox (d.1691), Leo Tolstoy (d.1910) and Dorothy Day (d.1980), among others.

We are weirdly drawn to the example of 12 anabaptists who ran through the streets of Amsterdam in the nude in 1535.

We believe God has a funny bone as big as the cosmos, and wants us all to lighten up.

Our favorite color is lavender. Our favorite flavor is rainbow.

Visit the “Marginal Mennonite Society” Facebook page, and “like” us.

(The MMS was created in February 2011.)

Manifesto last revised: November 2011.

Email: carlosnycity@gmail.com

“God says: I’m gonna have mercy on whoever I’m gonna have mercy on. And I’m gonna have compassion on whoever I’m gonna have compassion on.” (Exodus 33:19)

“God got mad mercy. Mad grace too. She don’t get pissed off much. Her love stretches down through the years. She lets people off the hook pretty easy.” (Exodus 34:6-7)

“God is one merciful dude. He won’t kick you to da curb. Won’t mess you up. Won’t off you neither.” (Deuteronomy 4:31)

“We all gonna die. We be like water spilled on the sidewalk. Can’t scoop that shit up. But God ain’t gonna take you out. He’ll come up with a plan so that even thugs and gangstas won’t be banished from his hood forever.” (2 Samuel 14:14)

“On this here hill, God’s gonna have a major throw-down, with lots of free food, and top-shelf drinks. Everybody gonna be there.” (Isaiah 25:6)

“Can mamas forget their babies? Can mamas stop caring about their own kids? Well, says God, they may forget, but I won’t be forgetting you.” (Isaiah 49:15)

“As I live and breathe, says God, I get no pleasure from the demise of thugs and gangstas. I’d prefer they get straight, and have a life.” (Ezekiel 33:11)

“As a mama has compassion for her babies, so God has compassion for those who respect the Eternal.” (Psalms 103:13)

“God’s good to everybody. Her compassion reaches everyone, and everything she done made.” (Psalms 145:9)

“Poor folk and fat cats have this is common: God gave all of them working eyeballs to see with.” (Proverbs 29:13)

“Is there any limit to the numbers in God’s posse? Where does God’s light not shine?” (Job 25:3)

“God’s love just don’t quit. Her mercy ain’t got no end to it.” (Lamentations 3:22)

“God ain’t gonna be rejecting nobody. God’s into compassion, into love. She don’t wanna lay no trips on no one. She don’t wanna give no one no grief.” (Lamentations 3:31-33)

“God ain’t gonna stay all pissed off. He loves letting folks off the hook. He gonna show compassion. He’ll kick our bad behavior’s ass, and throw our rap sheets into the East River.” (Micah 7:18-19)

The Universe Loves You! … & thinks you’re perfect just the way you are!

The christian church teaches the doctrine of original sin, that everyone is born with a sinful nature.

… We, on the other hand, believe in original goodness, that the spark of the divine resides in each and every human being. (Psalms 82:6, John 1:9)

The christian church portrays God as the heavenly father.

… We believe in God as mother, as well as father. (Isaiah 49:15)

The church says God’s justice will require him to damn most of his creatures to eternal punishment.

… We believe hell is a myth, and that every person who’s ever lived gets a seat at the celestial banquet table. (Isaiah 25:6)

The church claims Jesus was rejected by the Jews, and that his message superseded the “Old Testament.”

… We believe Jesus was a Jew in good standing until his dying day, and that everything he taught was firmly grounded in Torah.

The church asserts that every word of Jesus is true.

… We believe most sayings attributed to Jesus were put on his lips by the authors of the gospels, decades after his death. Of the 100 or so sayings that originate with Jesus, the densest collection is found in the Sermon on the Mount (Matt. 5-7). We particularly like the ones emphasizing: Mercy (Matt. 5:48/Luke 6:36); Forgiveness (Matt. 6:14-15/Luke 6:37); Nonviolence (Matt. 5:39-40/Luke 6:29); Compassion (Matt. 7:9-11/Luke 11:11-13); Freedom from anxiety (Matt. 6:25-30/Luke 12:22-28); and Non-attachment to material things (Matt. 6:19-21/Luke 12:33-34).

The church insists Jesus was sent to earth by his father to die as atonement for humanity’s sins.

… We believe Jesus did NOT die in some cosmic “child sacrifice” scenario. Rather, he was swept up in a Roman dragnet and, in short order, found himself looking down from a rebel’s cross, probably regretting he’d stayed so long in Jerusalem.

Christians think the kingdom of God is coming down the road, and that it will be the exclusive domain of church members in good standing.

… We believe God’s kingdom is a state of being. Inside us. Here and now. In our hands. Within our power. Available to EVERYBODY. (Luke 17:21)

*A publication of the Marginal Mennonite Tract & Propaganda Dept.*

*Visit the “Marginal Mennonite Society” Facebook page & “like” us.*

*Revised: March 2012*

Disclaimer: Marginal Mennonites are a diverse and contrary bunch. This publication does not purport to speak for all. The ideas expressed above belong solely to those Marginal Mennonites who subscribe to them.

On the great day of judgment, all of humanity was gathered in a celestial banquet hall. It was a huge space, with a massive round table in the middle. The table was so big that it accommodated what seemed to be hundreds of thousands of people, probably more. As one looked to the left or the right, there were people as far as the eye could see. Yet somehow, by some supernatural optical phenomenon, one had no trouble seeing clearly everyone seated directly across the table. In a position of prominence was the Almighty herself, who interestingly had an appearance not unlike the way God was portrayed in Monty Python’s “Life of Brian,” yet whose Voice was unmistakably feminine. After a while, some grumbling was to be heard, as people began to take notice of who was present. Finally, a lone voice cried out, a voice with a thick Brooklyn accent, saying, “Hey God, I’m happy to be here, of course, but I see my old neighbor Moshe sitting over there and I know that rotten sonofabitch rascal ought to be in the other place. What gives?” And the Almighty replied, in soft mellifluous tones reminiscent of Lauren Bacall (who was seated to my left, by the way): “Well, just as I asked all of you to love your neighbors no matter what, and to forgive others over and over again, why would you expect me to do any less?” As those words sunk in, heads nodded around the room, and some were heard to say: How can one argue with divine logic like that? The Almighty continued: “Don’t allow your eye to be filled with envy because I am generous.” More murmuring and head-nodding. “As for the other place,” the Almighty said, “there is no other place. Being here with Me is all there is, all there ever was, all there ever can be. What a horrible notion to think I would send anyone away forever. That’s punishment out of all proportion to the crimes, is it not? In any case, it doesn’t matter, because I’m now going to render my Final Judgment. And here it is: I judge you, each and every one of you, every single human being who has ever lived, to be my children, my friends, my lovers, whom I cherish with all my heart. I welcome you to this special banquet, prepared just for you.” And there were audible gasps, and many sighs of relief, to be heard around the room.

Love, compassion, joy, and equanimity are some of the hallmarks of the teachings of Jesus. But those concepts didn’t originate with Jesus.

He found them tucked away in the nooks and crannies of the Torah. Almost every saying in the Sermon on the Mount is a commentary on passages from the Hebrew Scriptures. The genius of Jesus was the way in which he put his own “spin” on the Scriptures, highlighting and elevating the positive aspects of God’s personality, while ignoring and rejecting the negative aspects.

The ideals of love, compassion, joy, and equanimity weren’t the unique property of the Judaic tradition, however. They could also be found earlier, and further east, in what is now India, Nepal, Bhutan. In the Fifth Century before Jesus, a man named Gotoma developed a body of teachings based on what are called “The Four Immeasurables”:

1. Unconditional love: An unselfish interest in the welfare of all sentient beings;

2. Compassion towards everybody: Wanting others, without exception, to be free from suffering;

3. Sympathetic joy: Being happy with the good fortune of others;

4. Equanimity: Regarding every living being as equal, with no distinction between friend, enemy, stranger.

Gotama became known to history as The Buddha.

So: Where did The Buddha get his inspiration?

Can there be any doubt that the source was Divine? From where else could the inspiration have come? What source other than God could lead human beings so long ago to organize their lives around the high-minded concepts of selfless love and universal compassion? I submit that there is no other possible source.

If we recognize the divinely inspired nature of Buddhism, it stands to reason that adherents of the Buddhist way are already, to use Christian terminology, “sanctified.” They have divine approval. They’re accepted, by God, just as they are.

It then follows that it would be wrong to attempt to dissuade Buddhists from the Way they’ve been given. In fact, one could argue that the holy lives of many Buddhists put most Christians to shame, and that Christians could learn much at the feet of our Buddhist sisters and brothers.

In my mind it is shameful that, if Christian missionaries had their way, all Buddhists would be converted until not a single one were left. How much poorer the world would be without the Buddhist witness.

Given the above, I would like to call on all Mennonite mission agencies (in particular the Mennonite Mission Network and Eastern Mennonite Missions) to place a moratorium on proselytizing activities in Buddhist countries, and/or in countries where Buddhists are targeted for conversion.

At the same time, I call on Christian missionaries everywhere to consider changing their orientation with regard to the Buddhist world, to recognize that the light of divine truth may be found in that world as well.

I would encourage all Christians, in future, to visit Buddhist lands, with open hearts, not for the purpose of preaching, but rather to seek out the truth and beauty in Buddhist cultures, and to bring those discoveries home for the appreciation and edification of believers in their own countries.

We are Mennonites (and fellow travelers) who reject the church’s mission activities.

We believe Christian mission, historically, goes hand-in-hand with cultural destruction. We love human diversity and seek to preserve it. Thus, we oppose evangelistic crusades and mission boards that proselytize, no matter how well-meaning they claim to be.

We reject the authenticity of the so-called “Great Commission” (Matt. 28:19-20). We simply don’t think Jesus said it. Most New Testament scholars doubt its authenticity as well, for a couple reasons. Firstly, any statements supposedly made by Jesus after his death must be called into question. Secondly, if Jesus told his followers to go out and convert the world, then the debate about the inclusion of Gentiles during Paul’s time makes little sense. To modern scholars, the “Great Commission” sounds more like the post-70-A.D. church talking than the historical Jesus.

We believe the missionary impulse contains an inherent contradiction. This is illustrated by the story of the Inuit hunter and the missionary. The Inuit asks the missionary: “If I did not know about God and sin, would I go to hell?” The missionary says: “No, not if you did not know.” To which the Inuit replies: “Then why did you tell me?” If we agree that God doesn’t reject those who’ve never heard the gospel, it follows that what causes unbelievers to be moved from a state of grace to a state of condemnation is the act of missionary preaching itself. Since most potential converts in the mission field reject the invitation to accept the gospel, it seems missionaries must be held responsible for more souls being lost than saved. Wouldn’t it be best to leave unbelievers alone, in their state of grace, in the first place?

We are persons who have developed friendships with folks from many paths and traditions: Buddhist, Hindu, Jewish, Moslem, Baha’i, Jain, Native American, Pagan, and more. We recognize the common emphases that make these paths more alike than they are different: mercy, compassion, loving-kindness, forgiveness, non-judgment, non-attachment to material things, etc. In our view, these emphases can only have one source: a divine one (regardless of whether it is acknowledged or not). We believe the Source who originally inspired the multitude of paths still approves of them today, without preference. So efforts to elevate one path over another are not only unnecessary, but should be viewed as evidence of spiritual arrogance and cultural aggression.

Therefore, we call on Mennonite mission agencies (in particular, Mennonite Mission Network, Eastern Mennonite Missions, and Rosedale Mennonite Missions) to:

1. Reevaluate their proselytizing work in light of modern understandings of the New Testament, and the realities of our multicultural post-christian world;

2. Change their mandate from converting the masses to helping preserve religious diversity around the globe; and

3. Begin sending people to foreign lands, not for the purpose of church expansion, but to investigate the truth and beauty in other cultures and bring those elements back for the edification and enlightenment of folks at home. Mennonite emissaries, not missionaries.

*****

The Mennonite Anti-Mission Association was created in July 2012.
Visit the “Mennonite Anti-Mission Association” Facebook page, and “like” us.
Manifesto last revised: July 6, 2012

When God tells us to love everybody, even those who don’t love us back (Matt. 5:44/Luke 6:27-28), isn’t this an imitation of the way God loves?

When God tells us to be generous and give to everyone (Matt. 5:42/Luke 6:30), isn’t this a reflection of God’s universal generosity?

When God tells us to be merciful and compassionate (Matt. 5:48/Luke 6:36), aren’t we following the example of God’s compassion and mercy?

When God tells us to be nonviolent in the face of violence (Matt. 5:39-40/Luke 6:29), isn’t it because God is the ultimate pacifist?

When God tells us to forgive without condition or limit (Matt. 6:14-15/Luke 6:37), can’t we assume that God’s forgiveness is limitless and unconditional?

Surely God doesn’t have lower standards of behavior for Herself than She has for us.

So when God tells us to refrain from judging others (Matt. 7:3-5/Luke 6:41-42), isn’t the implication that God is not in the judgment business?

We think so.

In the end, we believe, God will gather all Her children unto Herself. Every. Last. One.

“On this mountain God will make a feast for all people.” (Isaiah 25:6)

“Can a woman forget her nursing child, or show no compassion for the child of her womb? Even these may forget, yet I won’t forget you.” (Isaiah 49:15)

A publication of the Mennonite Anti-Mission Association (MAMA) Tract & Propaganda Department.

Visit the “Mennonite Anti-Mission Association” Facebook page, and “like” us.

“Then said Jesus unto him, Put up again thy sword into his place: for all they that take the sword shall perish with the sword.” — Matthew 26:52 (KJV)

‎”Hate begets hate; violence begets violence; toughness begets a greater toughness. We must meet the forces of hate with the power of love… ” – Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

“Violence begets violence. Hatred begets hatred. And terrorism begets terrorism.” — Rev. Jeremiah Wright, Jr.

I was originally going to write today about something to do with Liberation Theology. I am currently doing a research paper on the subject, and I figured that it would be worth writing about here. In fact, Thomas Muntzer is seen as both a founder of Anabaptism and a forerunner of Liberation Theology. So, it seemed like a good idea for something here for the Young Anabaptist Radicals. God, however, did not want me to write about that subject today.

When I woke up this morning, I did what I always do — I went onto my social networking sites to see if there was anything new. Well, there was, and it was not something that I am happy about. Israel reignited its military campaign against Gaza in its so-called “Operation Pillar of Defense”. Israel, backed by the United States government, has continued its senseless bombings of Palestinians.

As with any international issue, social networking and news sites blew up with this news of the latest military strikes in the region. There were many who say that the Israelis are justified in their actions. They say that they are more civilized than those terrorists in Gaza. On the other hand, there are those who say that Palestine is oppressed, that we should support groups like Hamas. I, however, find myself strangely in the middle.

I cannot deny the evils of the Israeli government. I cannot deny that they have instituted an apartheid state that has attacked and slaughtered so many innocent lives. However, I also cannot justify the so-called liberating violence of groups like Hamas. The one has a horrible imperialist terrorism, while the other has a horrible guerrilla terrorism. Both seek to have their people dominate over the other. Both would gladly oppress the other. The thing that keeps Hamas from doing so is Israel’s massive military.

We are stuck in a massive cycle of violence.

From Gaza to the streets of American inner cities, we are in a cycle of violence. The Israelis bomb the Palestinians, and the Palestinians bomb the Israelis. We bomb the Middle East, so they bomb us. It just goes in circles — over and over again. The previous attack is use to justify the one after it, and that one used to justify the next.

People were telling me all day that I have to pick a side. I have to either pick the violence of the Israelis or Hamas. This is not the first time. During the elections I was told to support the Democrats or Republicans. During the Libyan civil war I was told to support the US government or Gaddafi.

I cannot choose either side in any of these conflicts. All of them are on the side of violence, which I am not.

Thankfully, we do not live in a world of dualism. We live in a world of complexity. There are not just two sides choose from — there are many. Violence begets violence and hatred begets hatred. So I do not choose either of these two options. While all the different armies, governments, and rebel groups say vengeance is the answer. I think that we should seek something far more powerful, and far more effective — justice.

I cannot tell you what to feel about all the problems we face today, and I do not want to. I am tired of silly, fruitless online debates. But as for me, I can no longer choose war, and I do not think as Jews, Christians, Muslims, Hindus, or any other faith group, that we can choose war anymore.

“And he shall judge among the nations, and shall rebuke many people: and they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruninghooks: nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more.” — Isaiah 2:4 (KJV)

— Kevin Daugherty

As I am sure we all know, there was a tragic shooting in an elementary school up in Connecticut. This is not the first shooting in this country either — not at all. It seems like every week or so that there is a major shooting in the United States. Not all of them make national news, but they always make it to the local news. I have heard many different reactions to these tragedies, but I feel that I must address the typical reaction that I see from Christians, especially conservative ones.

I know this particular approach well because it is the view of my father. He feels that all of life’s evils can be solved by violence. He says we should bomb the Middle East, bomb China, reinforce Israel, and increase private ownership of guns. To put some icing on the cake, he also works for the Department of Homeland Security/Transportation Security Administration.

In addition to my father, a classmate of mine, who sits behind me in English, often talks about guns with another classmate of mine. He feels that all of these massacres could just be stopped if people carried guns. His logic is that if someone starts shooting, everyone else can just fire back and kill him. I am sure that we can all agree how flawed this logic is, but it nevertheless makes sense to him.

My father and classmate have a very little in common except for one thing — they both see themselves as Christians. Their logic, however, seems to directly contradict that of Jesus, yet they see themselves as Christians. I find this very problematic, yet it is a very common sentiment. Very many people in this country own guns, join the military, vote for war, and support groups like the National Rifle Association while still seeing themselves as Christian. There was even a church in Texas that was giving shooting lessons to “defend” against Mexican immigrants!

Can an authentic Christian believe in such things? Can an authentic Christian desire for more guns, warfare, and violence? I very strongly say, no; I very strongly feel that such people are not really following Christ. Jesus said and did many things in the three years he preached, and nonviolence was a big part of it:

Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy. (Matt. 5:7)

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God. (Matt. 5:9)

You have head that is was said, “An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.” But I tell you not to resist an evil person. But whoever slaps you on your right cheek, turn the other to him also. (Matt. 5:38-39)

Put your sword in its place, for all who take the sword will perish by the sword. (Matt. 26:52)

This is only from one gospel and a few select passages at that, but I think it is enough to get the point across.

We are Christians, which means that we follow Christ. We do not follow Augustine who made up the “Just War” Theory; we do not follow the Old Testament kings and their genocidal campaigns; and we do not follow modern day politicians or theologians. As Christians, and as Anabaptists, our foundation is the Gospel. Sure, the other parts of Scripture and history are great and helpful, but they do not overrule our faith in Christ.

If we are going to follow Jesus, we must ask: did he mean it? Did he mean it when he said to love our enemies? Did he mean it when he said to lay down our swords? Did he mean it when he said that only the sinless can cast stones? Did Jesus mean it?

— Kevin Daugherty

Crossposted from As of Yet Untitled

Occupy Love is an ambitious documentary. In an hour and 30 minutes, it attempts to offer a short history of Occupy Wall Street. It traces the roots of the movement back to the streets of Tunisia in December 2010 and through the plazas in Spain in the summer of 2011. In parallel to these clips from recent history, its interviews plumb the big ideas that undergird the Occupy movement. Interviews with activists, writers and thinkers run the gamut from the gift economy to western civilization’s estrangement from the natural world.

Through this eccentric tapestry, the film traces the thread of love. The filmmaker, Velcrow Ripper, asks everyone he interviews, "How could the crisis we’re facing be a love story?"

Ripper’s question brings unexpected responses. Clayton Thomas-Muller, a First Nations leader and an environmental activist, pulls aside his shirt to reveal a tattoo that says, "Love is a Movement."

"When you are born in a community that has been completely devastated by the energy infrastructure that’s been built on the back of our people all across continental North America," Thomas-Muller says, "you don’t choose to get involved in this work. You’re born to it."

The focus on love gives the film a tone of unreasonable optimism: hope against the odds. Perhaps this is necessary, given the alternative. On the very last day of 2007, I wrote a review here of What a Way to Go: Life at the End of Empire, a look at the four ecological limits we are running into on this planet: peak oil, mass extinction, climate change and overpopulation. The movie delves deep in the suicidal structural problems in our system today but gives no clear answer to the question, "What can we do?"

In many ways, Occupy Love is the exuberant, bubbly daughter of What a Way to Go, which was released in 2007. It, too, is a personal essay with a clear editorial position, but the place in time and history is quite different. In the six intervening years, the global economic downturn has laid bare the silliness and sickness at the heart of the system. While political and economic leaders have battened down the hatches and refused to face reality, grassroots resistance and alternatives have blossomed. For many of us, there is no longer any question of the magnitude and reality of the crisis. The question is one of means, with the ends starkly and, often, mercilessly, in focus.

Love at the center of resistance

The questions of the means by which we resist domination and opression is no small one. There is a long history of embittered, violent resistance to empire from the Zealots to the Weather Underground. Occupy Love embodies a spirit of the age rejecting that paradigm of dehumanization and demonization. This is a movement investing in love.

"It’s not about confrontation," says Clayton Thomas-Muller, "it’s about communities coming together and marching to pray for the healing of the world’s largest and most destructive development in the history of mankind known as Canada’s tar sands."

While unequivocal in naming its opponent, the tone of the central message of the movement portrayed in Occupy Love gives the means of social change as much importance as the end itself.

This transition to a love-centered movement has not been by accident. In the film, womanist writer bell hooks articulates the careful wisdom that guides those in this militantly loving landscape.

"What is justice?" she asks. "The heart of it is really longing for people to be able to grow and develop freely in a positive and constructive way. So what are the conditions that allow for this? So we’re back to this idea that there can be no love where there is domination."

Others interviewed take a dip into the narrative of romantic love. "Great love stories involve yearning to be together and seperation by forces that seek to keep them apart." says biologist Rupert Sheldrake, "and certainly the big seperation that has happened here is the separation of humanity and nature, which has been brought about by a framework of thought and an ideology of development and domination and control and empire."

Sheldrake and hooks use language that dovetails with the Hebrew prophets and the New Testament concept of principalities and powers. At the same time, Occupy Love’s vision for transformation bears remarkable similarity to Jesus’ beloved community vision of enemy-loving and jubilee abundance.

"The lover knows that more for you is more for me too. If you love someone, then there happiness is your happiness." says author Charles Eisenstein. "Their pain is your pain. Your sense of self expands to include other beings. That’s love. Love is expansion of self to include the other. And that’s a different kind of revolution. There’s no one to fight. There’s no evil to fight. There’s no other in this revolution."

"Having people disconnect and see one another as enemies is so crucial to the maintenance of that dominator system." says bell hooks. "And love comes in and says, ‘There isn’t any difference that can’t be understood. There isn’t any conflict that can’t be reconciled.’ So that love becomes a major threat to the formation of any kind of culture of dominator-thinking and dominator-society."

These aren’t just abstract, idealized concepts for the chommunity behind this movie. They are the force that made it happen. The documentary was crowd funded using the open source fund raising tool Kickstarter and Indiegogo. Between the two campaigns, 903 people gave $80,911 to fund the film. It embodies the new robust face of love that author Clay Shirky names as a key factor in the open source movement: "When people care enough, they can come together and accomplish things of a scope and longevity that were previously impossible; they can do big things for love."

Those of us seeking to embody and live Jesus’ shalom vision have a lot to learn from this movie. Perhaps we can learn something from the way the wind is blowing after all.

If you can’t afford the $4 to watch the movie on-line, you can watch some of the short films that were made during the making the documentary here for free.

Update: You can watch the film for free if you email the makers of the film.

Photo caption: Woman photographs Overpass Light Brigade at Occupy Wall Street 1st anniversary celebration in Chicago, September 17th, 2012. Photo by Tim Nafziger

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